


Prodigal

by butyoumight



Category: Green Day
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-10
Updated: 2006-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/pseuds/butyoumight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Tré didn't know what to say.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Prodigal

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place directly after Billie Joe's 'lost weekend' in New York.

Tré didn't know what to say. He opened his front door just after midnight to find the frontman standing there with a sway, eyes downcast, hair long, and scraggly as if he hadn't bathed in days, maybe weeks, a sheer shadow of stubble ghosting across his cheeks. Tré didn’t know what to _think_.

But when he looked closer, tilting his head to meet the singer's eyes, haunted and hollow, truly _frightened_ , he didn't say anything at all. He simply opened his arms, and let the haggard man fall against his chest.

Billie Joe smelled like little more than booze and cigarettes, and while Tré wondered where he had been, why he looked how he did, he knew that there would be time for answers later. Later, because now Billie Joe was back.

Half leading, half carrying him, Tré took him upstairs and into the bathroom. He ran a warm bath while he stripped the frontman of his clothes, wincing at the sordid assortment of bruises and broken skin painting the pale, shaking body before him, but still silent, and without question.

Stripping himself, he settled them both easily into the water, and for a long moment simply held the once missing man close, almost reveling in the fact that he was back, that they could stop worrying for his life, and now, more easily worry about him, in person.  
He washed Billie's hair gently, and, with even more care, took his razor to the too-long growth upon Billie's cherubic face. Billie, at a loss, simply let the drummer do what he wanted, completely slack in Tré's arms.

Tré rose out of the tub, gently pulling Billie with him, and wrapped a thick towel around Billie's shoulders before securing one around his own waist, and leading him down to the bedroom.

The silence reigned for a long while after that, the drummer simply holding the singer close, listening to him breathe and trailing meaningless patterns with his fingertips along Billie's back, maybe hoping in some small way to soothe and strike down Billie Joe's demons.  
When the silence finally broke, it was Billie Joe speaking; his voice as downtrodden and broken as had been the look in his eyes. "You're being so sweet. I thought you'd be angry."

Tré shushed him, pressed his lips to Billie's temple. "Just don't leave again."


End file.
